They stand for a few awkward seconds, just looking at each other. Or maybe it’s just awkward for Taylor, who is unsure how to handle being attracted to a girl who isn’t Finley. It feels as if Taylor has a kick drum in her chest. She’s about to suggest they go somewhere other than the bathroom when someone outside the door shouts, “Cops! It’s the cops! Run!”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Vanessa exclaims. “I can’t get busted for underage drinking. My parents will kill me.” She pushes up the window, pops out the screen, and swings a leg over the windowsill. “Coming?”

Taylor follows Vanessa out the window and makes the short drop to the ground below. Vanessa scales the low chain-link fence at the back of the yard, and Taylor does the same.

“Over here,” Vanessa says, beckoning her behind a hedge in the neighbor’s yard. Taylor crouches beside her and they watch from between the leaves as people scatter in every direction. Taylor doesn’t see Willa or Campbell anywhere, only the flashing blue and red lights of the police car and people scrambling to not be arrested.

“Do you live in Oswego?” Vanessa whispers.

“No. I’m from Ohio,” Taylor whispers back. “I’m heading to Key West by sailboat. We start down the canal toward Albany tomorrow.”

“Really? That’s . . . incredibly cool.”

There’s something liberating about meeting someone who doesn’t know the whole story, but at the same time it feels like a betrayal to leave Finley out. “There was supposed to be three of us,” Taylor explains. “But our best friend died, so now it’s just me and Willa.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

Vanessa’s fingers brush the back of her hand, and Taylor feels too many things at once. She wishes she hadn’t mentioned Finley, then feels immediately guilty. Vanessa is too close, but Taylor doesn’t want her to go away, either. “I, um—I need to get to the park,” she says. “We arranged to meet there if the party got busted.”

“I’ll walk with you, if you want.”

“Yeah.” Taylor nods. “Thanks.”

They creep out from behind the hedge and skirt the neighbor’s house in the shadows, emerging on the other side of the block, where there are no police cars. They walk in silence until they’re across the next intersection.

“Have you seen Sister Kismet?” Taylor asks.

“Four times.” Vanessa ticks off on her fingers. “Twice at Warped, once when they opened for The Joneses, and once at this all-ages show in the city. What about you?”